The student laughed. “When you become aroused. It's to enforce the second law, which is why the teachers named it what they did. However wet you were when it was calibrated, that's how much it allows. Anything more than that, you get a shock, stronger the wetter you are. So you learn some restraint."
"Hah!” Jack joined in from her end of the table. “You learn to enjoy the pain, if you have any sense at all. There's no way you can be here and not be aroused, and the teachers know it. Hell, they designed the place. The real point to that thing-some of us students call it a Jitterbug-is just to keep you from coming. They want you on pins and needles all the time, and so do we. Admit it; if we didn't enjoy the feeling, we wouldn't be here."
The conversation continued, argument and agreement. Carolyn sat and listened, for the most part, wincing now and then. The device did seem designed for both pain and pleasure, with a ridge set between her lips just nudging her clitoris. Friction made her wet, which made it shock her, which stopped the production of fluid for a bit. But then she'd move, and rub against the ridge, and it started all over again.
By the end of the meal, she was almost resigned to her position. They were devious, the teachers, and she was glad of it. They would teach her things she'd never even imagined; right now, she was learning to dance the Jitterbug. She wondered what the evening would hold, and was eager to find out, hoping that the man she had seen earlier would appear again.
She flowed just at the thought of him, and was shocked, and the students jeered and laughed. Sympathy, envy, cruelty, each according to their nature, they all showed their emotions on their faces, and their desire. All of them burned with arousal, no matter their words. Looking around, Carolyn noted the same look in every eye. Teacher or student-all bound by desire. It made her feel drunk, even as she blushed from shame. She didn't like being the center of attention, and they were all staring at her. But the way they were looking … that she didn't mind a bit. If only there weren't so many of them! She felt trapped by all the eyes, staring hot and wide.
Oh, help! She looked around the room, searching for escape. It was too much, the mix of feelings-she was embarrassed, and eager, and aflame. Please! She didn't know what she was looking for, but still she found it. There, at a corner table, sat the man of her dreams. He was sipping something, listening to his seatmate, oblivious to her, but her eyes locked on to him like the answer to her prayers.
Her insides melted, just at the sight of him, and the Enforcer sent its scolding shocking forth. She winced, and the students chuckled or clapped or told her to enjoy. She didn't even look at them. Let them watch, she thought. Let him.
A perverse imp of impulse made her grind against the seat. The Enforcer, unyielding, pressed hard into her mound and sent forth its electric scold. Again, a third time, and a fourth, faster, harder. She climaxed in time with the shock, screaming loud into the hall.
The shocks continued, making her body writhe. Spasming, gasping, eyes and mouth gaping wide. Calibrated with great care, it could not really hurt her, but it fired all it could, and her eyes rolled back in her head with the sensation.
Beyond pleasure, beyond pain, her whole body clenched in orgasm. Rictus smile stretching her face, she fell forward in her chair. The table might have been a pillow filled with goose down, from the way she sighed.
"Jitterbug,” she purred, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
She woke sometime in the night, the soft slap of flesh on flesh whispering through the air. It was dark; she could not see who, or what, made the noise, heard only the pleasure, smelled the musk in the breeze, and a slight hint of antiseptic. Sighs and moans and kisses lulled her back to sleep. In the morning, when the white-coated doctor woke her, her first thought was to look around the room. The infirmary, she decided. No mussed bed sheets met her eyes; she was left to wonder. And smile wryly when she realized how disappointed she was not to know.
She'd never cared before, what people did together. But now, she was curious. And envious. They had enjoyed themselves, whoever they had been; she wanted to feel the same, and more, and now. Sharp burning between her thighs told her not to be impatient; still, she yearned. This, she thought, is what life is all about.
The doctor released her to what he called a light schedule, and sent her to breakfast and classes after telling her to take care. Just before she left, he smeared a cream on her vaginal mound; she jumped at the cold touch, but made no sound of protest. Somehow, it didn't seem worth the effort. The chill faded quickly, and he waved her on her way. Dressing, she realized it had taken all her pain.
She whistled as she made her way to the dining hall, hunger spurring her steps till she got to the door. Sudden memory made her freeze. I can't go in there! Blood rushed to her cheeks as she remembered what everyone had seen. “Oh, no,” she moaned.
"Carolyn!” Jack shouted from a table, waving. Mortified, Carolyn shuffled to her chair. She choked down a few bites to the jests and jeers of the students, her tears flavoring her meal though she tried her best not to hear.
"Oh, hush,” a redheaded woman spoke from a nearby table. “We've all been through it. Don't worry, sugar; you adjust. Are you in much pain?” Carolyn shook her head, not daring to look up. “Well, then, just you get on with your studies. There's a great deal to learn!” The talk turned to classes, and homework, and teachers and tutors. Carolyn listened, desperate to know everything she could about this place. Who is he? Where can I find him? What will he expect?
The bell rang for class.
* * * *
She'd never liked history in high school, but they hadn't taught it anything like this. Variously crafted phalluses were positioned around the room. The instructor held a box before the class. “Cleopatra's vibrator. Instead of electricity, she had buzzing bees.” The lesson included information about society, dress and custom and belief, money and politics. It was all fascinating, and all tied into sex. Carolyn was eager for the study period, and the chance to read her textbook. She'd never seen ancient Egyptian pornography!
The next class was in the language hall; she was told she'd be learning French. Her heart sank; she'd done poorly in that, too. But perhaps it would be like history had been, so different from her experience as to be almost alien. She stood in the doorway as class started, hoping against hope.
A beautiful sculpted woman lounged in a chaise at the front of the room. Love words rolled off her tongue like honey, heavy and golden. Carolyn's nipples tightened purely in reflex, the voice so intimate it seemed to caress her ears. A man in his twenties raised his hand, and the woman gestured. He stood, uniform shorts tented out over an impressive erection, and spoke a few words, in French, presumably. Carolyn had never learned to understand more than a handful of words. Whatever he said, it seemed to amuse the woman, who laughed and purred something that made him come where he stood. The class didn't seem surprised, but rather sympathetic. Carolyn got the idea this teacher didn't enforce the second rule.
She stepped inside. The numbness was beginning to fade from her core, and soreness intruded, but she made her way to an empty desk and gingerly sat down. The woman said something, and the man at the desk beside her replied and bent his head to Carolyn's ear. “We'll meet after supper, and I'll help you get caught up. For now, just listen.” He turned his face forward, expression rapt, as the woman declaimed.
Though she could not understand a word, Carolyn, too, listened. That voice! With the return of soreness came a throbbing she was beginning to get used to. It all melted together, until she felt like she was living in a dream.